


And Then There Were Two

by Kerkerian



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: "It's Not A Competition", Angst and Humor, Arguments, Caretaking, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Illness, Jealousy, Mac Whump, Some Fluff, Team as Family, divergence from canon, helicopter-parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28525794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian/pseuds/Kerkerian
Summary: When something goes wrong on a mission, Mac finds himself in a somewhat unprecedented situation afterwards. He can't really find it in him to mind though...
Relationships: Angus MacGyver & Russ Taylor, Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton & Russ Taylor
Comments: 16
Kudos: 77





	And Then There Were Two

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own MacGyver.

Mac is shivering. There were a few times where he's felt _this_ cold, and he remembers them all more or less vividly: a mission in Siberia at the end of which Jack and he almost missed their exfil, an unintended night in a Russian mine that doubled as a prison (not something he ever wants to repeat) or the one time he and Bozer broke through the ice of Pine Valley Lake back when they were kids, to name a few.

It's the kind of cold that numbs not only his extremities but also his brain, and he can't stop shaking. To be fair, he's always been rather susceptible to the cold, courtesy of his slim build, and as long as he keeps moving and is dressed appropriately, he's okay.

Since this mission led them to Alaska, he is dressed in several layers all designed to keep the wearer warm. Which they did splendidly, until he was thrown into a freezing body of water. The Pine Valley Lake incident happened about 19 years ago, but the breath-robbing, fiercely aching sensation was painfully familiar. To this day, Mac can't watch 'Titanic' (and Jack makes him, now and again, because he's such a secret romantic) without feeling cold out of pure sympathy.

Actually being in the water is way worse, of course. He thought of Zoe Kimura and how he imagined her last moments- freezing, full of fear and aware what was going to happen. That there wasn't going to be a last-minute rescue.

Mac, who was fighting to remain at the surface because moving was becoming increasingly difficult and his soaked clothes were pulling him down, could at least hear his team shout his name and knew they were on their way.

By the time Jack and Russ fished him out, he was barely able to breathe though, and his recollection of the following hour or so is hazy.

Russ and Jack are arguing even as they peel him out of his sodden clothes. He doesn't try to protest, just trusts them to do the right thing; he's still too busy shivering, his world is reduced to iciness. Surprisingly, the air seems less frigid than the water, and a moment later, he's being wrapped into something warm- Jack's coat. And Russ' coat. And Riley's.

It'd be embarrassing if he was coherent- and warm- enough to care. And then Jack is rubbing his hands and someone else is rubbing his feet, and it hurts fiercely at first, but then he can feel some warmth returning, and even though he's still terribly cold, it's a relief. Jack also keeps talking to him, doesn't fall silent once, and Mac listens to his voice without grasping all the words, just listens, grateful to have something else to focus on. He's vaguely aware that at one point they manoevered him into the ATV they commandeered from the terrorists they just overpowered, and eventually, there's motion.

The arguing flares up now and again, but Mac is beyond caring as long as Jack's there. His entire body is aching, his head is throbbing, and he still feels numb from the cold, too much so in fact to follow his partners' dispute. There are single words that catch on with his frozen brain: _exfil, chopper, hypothermia, warmth_.

The last one is important but almost unimaginable at this point. He's still got to be warm deep inside, in his inner core, otherwise he'd be dead. He imagines a glowing red center, thinking it'd be a good idea to retreat as far into himself and closer to his core as he can; it will be alright, because Jack's there, guarding him. Making sure he's gonna be okay.

Mac closes his eyes.

Some time later, Mac is surprised to find himself not in a moving vehicle but in completely unfamiliar surroundings. Inside somewhere. He's wrapped up in something soft and deliciously warm, and Jack's still there, his tense expression softening as he feels Mac's gaze on himself: “Hey, man,” he says, sounding relieved. “You back with us?”

Mac blinks and becomes aware of his still throbbing head. His fingers and his toes are tingling, but at least they aren't cold anymore. “Where?” he croaks.

“Exfil was cancelled because the chopper couldn't fly in these temperatures,” Jack says, “so we went to an old service cabin Riley found.”

“S'rry I zoned out.”

Jack leans in closer, puts one hand on his chest; its weight is reassuring.

“I'm just glad you're awake now,” he says, his voice thin. “How're you feelin', hoss?”

Mac needs a moment to take stock: he's warm, which is good. His head aches, not so good but bearable. He feels as though he's run a marathon, annoying. He's not wearing any clothes, which isn't what he prefers but it makes sense, given the situation. And his brain still feels too slow somehow.

“I'mma take an IQ test when we're back home,” he mutters, unaware of how slurred his words are; talking is a lot of effort too. “Not sure about Diophantine equations...” With that, he closes his eyes again.

Jack regards him with a frown, reaching out to feel his forehead and his temples with his wrist: whereas Mac's skin was too cold for the majority of two hours, he now definitely feels too warm. And what he said just now... Jack isn't certain if it counts as being lucid. On the other hand- it's Mac. His mind often works different.

“You still awake, kiddo?” he asks, but it doesn't garner any reaction. Gently, he pulls his coat up higher around his partner and sits back down; Mac probably didn't notice it, but he's wrapped in everything they could find, which wasn't much, and all of their coats again. Russ and Riley have built a large fire in the open fireplace and keep stoking it; luckily for all of them, there's enough dry wood there. Mac's wet clothes are hanging in front of it to dry, and he's lying on a ratty couch, since there are no beds or even cots.

Once they had arrived and gathered all the blankets and sheets together they could find, Jack rubbed Mac down with one of the sheets, then wrapped him into another; Jack and Riley subsequently got out of their outer layers and snuggled up with him in their thermal underwear, which was warming him up most effectively, while Russ built the fire. Once Mac's felt warm enough and his lips had lost their blue tinge, Riley and Jack transferred him to the couch and additionally wrapped him in the two woolen blankets they had found, and their coats.

Russ now comes to stand next to Jack and hands him an enamel mug: “It's just hot water, I'm afraid, those cupboards are empty. So no tea.”

“You shouldn't drink anything caffeinated with hypothermia anyway,” Jack says. “Thanks.” He puts his hand on Mac's chest again to rouse him: “Mac?”

“What?” Russ shakes his head. “Coffee I get. But tea? Nothing better to warm a person up, in my opinion.”

“Feel free to take that up with the doc when we're back,” Jack's focus in on Mac. “I know you Brits can't live without tea, apparently, but he's the one who said so the last time we posed as icicles.”

Russ just shakes his head again.

Roughly 37 hours later, Mac wakes up in his own bed. He vaguely remembers exfil finally getting them out in what looked like a tracked snow vehicle that wouldn't look out of place on the moon and, later on, being on a plane, where he received warmed intravenous fluids and heating pads in strategic places before they too wrapped him up snugly. He slept for most of the flight, and since his body temperature kept improving, Dr. Sinderby at Phoenix Medical didn't insist on keeping him in.

Mac blinks; he's finally feeling warm again, but he can also tell he's got a cold coming on. His sinuses are making themselves known, and his throat is hurting. Great.

With a sigh, he gets out of bed and pads into the bathroom, then the kitchen, a blanket around his shoulders. Even in the hall, he can hear someone arguing, and really, it's Jack and Russ.

“... healing powers all on its own. Everyone knows that.” Jack crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“I'm just saying that ginger's got an antiinflammatory effect and is utterly delicious in a chicken soup!” Russ crosses his arms as well.

“What's going on?” Mac mutters, not at all up to dealing with their verbal sparring.

“Nothing,” Jack says belligerently. “Just discussing some recipes.”

Russ huffs. “How're you feeling?” he then asks Mac, while Jack reaches up to check Mac's temperature.

Mac squints at him, then at Russ: “I'll be fine. Er... I don't wanna be rude, but what are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see how you were, and brought some groceries.” Russ gives him a sympathetic smile.

“That's nice.” Mac wraps his blanket more tightly around himself. “Thanks.”

“And unnecessary,” Jack grumbles in an undertone. “Since I'm already here and got things under control.”

Mac gives him a look, which Jack ignores, putting one arm around Mac protectively instead.

“Anyway,” Russ claps his hands together. “If you don't mind, I'm going to cook you my grandmother's famous chicken soup. Works wonders if one feels under the weather.”

Mac opens his mouth to repeat that he's fine, but his slightly hoarse voice and his undeniably glazed eyes have probably already given away that he's been lying.

So he just nods: “I'm going back to bed,” he murmurs. “Thanks.”

“Are you hungry?” Jack asks. “I can make you some sandwiches for now.”

Mac shakes his head: “Thanks,” he mutters.

“How about a nice cuppa?” Russ suggests. “I've brought a lovely Assam blend. Harrod's finest, actually.”

Considering how his throat feels right now, that seems a good idea. “Yeah,” Mac therefore agrees.

“Should he be drinking tea though?” Jack asks.

“Since the hypothermia has been dealt with, it's perfectly fine,” Russ says airily. “I asked the doc.”

“Oh, did you.”

“Yes, as per your suggestion.”

“Guys-” Mac starts, but breaks off when Jack pats his back: “Come on, I'll tuck you in.”

“Okay. You go back to bed, I'll make the tea and bring it to you once it's done.” Russ is already looking for a kettle.

Shooting him a look, Jack steers Mac to his bedroom.

“You don't have to t-” Mac begins as he's crawling under the covers, but Jack's already doing it, pulling the sheet and the comforter and the extra blankets on top up to Mac's chin: “There, how's that?”

“I could've done it myself,” Mac replies, pushing them down again somewhat. “What's going on with you and Russ?”

“Nothing's going on.”

“You know you don't have to stay and take care of me, right? And neither does he. I'll just sleep, I'll be fine.”

Jack huffs a laugh: “Yeah, right. You really think I'll leave you on your own after what just happened and with you looking like you're doing right now?”

He sits down on the mattress, regarding Mac: “It was really scary, you checking out on us in that cabin. You looked so lifeless that I kept checking your pulse, hoss.”

Mac fidgets with the hem of one the blankets: “I can imagine. I'm fine now though.”

“Yeah.” Jack's gaze is tender. “You're a terrible liar too, you know that?”

He reaches out, and for a moment, Mac thinks he's going to check his temperature again, but he doesn't. He just strokes over Mac's cheek with the back of his fingers, gently and caring. Papa Jack-style. “So excuse me if I stay, alright?” For a moment, before he can rein it in, the fear he felt back in Alaska is palpable.

Suddenly feeling like an insensitive idiot, Mac catches his hand with his own, squeezing it: “You know I appreciate your concern,” he says softly. “I didn't mean to throw you out. I just thought maybe you'll want to get some rest too. Catch a break.”

“No need to worry about me,” Jack replies in a low voice. “I'm good here.” He gives Mac a smile.

Right then, there's a knock on the door frame, then Russ comes in with the tea, which he puts on the nightstand: “You need anything else?”

“No,” Mac says softly, looking at Jack, then back at Russ. “I got everything I need.”

He can just see Jack's expression softening in his peripheral vision and hear him making small _aww_ ing sounds.

“Good. I'll go and make that soup, then.” Russ winks at him and leaves again.

“He's so annoying sometimes,” Jack mutters even while he's still blinking the sudden moisture in his eyes away.

“He means well,” Mac murmurs. “Don't worry though, he's not you.”

Jack draws himself up straight: “Damn right he ain't.” But it feels good to hear it from his boy.

Mac spends the following days in bed. He's got a severe cold, a fever and a bad cough, and Dr. Sinderby comes by a few times because he's worried that Mac's condition might deteriorate and that he's going to develop pneumonia. Which he doesn't, fortunately, but he's still feeling awful.

Jack has all but moved in and is sleeping in Bozer's former room, and Russ keeps coming by as well.

Bozer and Riley drop by only once the fever's gone (sensing that Mac doesn't actually want such a flow of visitors but rather to be left in peace), bringing more food and flowers from Matty.

“How're you holding up?” Riley asks him in an undertone. “With not only one but _two_ helicopter-parents hovering?”

Mac rolls his eyes weakly: “They argue all the time.”

“I know, I've heard.” Riley pulls a face: “Just now, they're having it out over poultices. Whether you need some or not for your cough. And if they should be warm or cold. Around the chest or-” She stops when she sees Mac's horrified expression.

“Break me out, please?” he croaks, promptly coughing again.

“Sorry, Mac,” she says sympathetically. “I don't think that's an option.”

“But what if they actually agree on something for a change? What to put into those poultices, for example?”

“I don't think that's gonna happen so soon,” Riley shakes her head. “Russ was all in favour of onions while Jack said something about warm oatmeal.”

“It's probably best if I lock myself into the bathroom and sleep in the tub,” Mac mutters defeatedly.

“Don't worry.” Riley gives him a smile. “Bozer's already on it, trying to dissuade them.”

“You should've started with that,” Mac mumbles.

He looks beat now, and Riley gets to her feet: “Text us if you need anything,” she says. “Get better, okay?”

Mac smiles groggily: “Trying.”

Apart from the arguing about what's best for Mac, it's actually not too bad.

Mac's secretly glad not to be alone after all, because he'd admittedly probably have starved or passed out and hit his head at one point; being up is rather taxing at the moment, making him feel dizzy and unsteady on his feet, and it's weirdly reassuring that someone is eventually going to find him if he really blacks out in the bathroom or something like that.

And Jack, for all his hovering, is doing his best not to overstep certain boundaries, even though he likes to demonstrate just how close Mac and he are whenever Russ is around.

The latter leaves the more intimate stuff to Jack anyway, like tucking Mac in (Jack doggedly turns a deaf ear to Mac whenever he tells him that he doesn't _need_ tucking in) or changing his sheets (same) or making sure he won't keel over in the shower (this actually required some yelling. Or rather, an approximation thereof, because one can't really yell with a sore throat).

So, while Jack is taking on the role of the actual dad, Russ is more like a godfather. Who likes to cook and rile dad up every once in a while, for fun. And surreptitiously makes dad eat and sleep too, especially in the first few days when Mac's fever is too high and he keeps coughing through the night.

“Admit it,” Mac says, once he's doing better and Jack sits with him to play Battleship. “You like Russ.”

“I don't... _not_ like him,” Jack says, which is as much as he'll concede at this point. “Though he's a little obsessive at times. If I had put a dollar into a jar every time he said 'chicken soup', I'd be rich now!”

Mac wisely refrains from rolling his eyes. “It's nice of him though,” he said. “And there are worse things than employers who actually care that much.”

Jack inclines his head: “We wouldn't function as a team if we didn't care about one another,” he mutters. “Good thing he realized that.”

“Yeah.” Mac regards him. “You know that he could never replace you, right?”

Jack averts his gaze, but there's a smile spreading on his face. “I know.”

He pats Mac's knee through the blankets, still looking anywhere but at Mac: “Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too.”

For a moment, they're silent.

“So, we playin' or what?”

“Yeah, ready when you are.”

“Oh, I _am_. I'm so gonna sink all your ships before you even know it...”

“You wish. Remember the last time you defeated me at Battleship? Oh, that's right, that never happened!”

“There's a first time for everything, hoss...”

“Famous last words.”

“Huh. Bring it on, then!”

“Fine. F9.”

“Oh now, that's gotta be cheating...”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm not a Native Speaker, therefore I apologize for any mistakes.
> 
> I really like Russ and how he tried to be there for Mac after James' death. The fact that he thought Mac had actually gone rogue strangely doesn't bother me so much in his case because he simply didn't know Mac as well as Desi did back then.  
> He could never assume Jack's place though, and if Jack were back, I think he wouldn't even try.


End file.
